


The One Who Cried Wolf

by ohaiwrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Spoilers for Dragon Age Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohaiwrites/pseuds/ohaiwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Update 09/2015: okay, for those subscribing to this - I'm terribly sorry, but for now I have to put this back on hiatus. I've had to take longer breaks on writing due to work and I currently feel like I won't continue this specific fic right now. It's a little hard to get back into. So if you like, keep checking my works because I'll probably put some new stuff up soon - and maybe I'll continue The One who Cried Wolf some day in the future. <3<br/> </p><p>*this is NOT spoiler-free* *I repeat: if you haven't finished the game, please note that this fic contains spoilers*<br/>Just another Lavellan/Solas fic that details the events of DA:I.<br/>Might contain mature content at later chapters, explicit language and general foreshadowing of DA:I ending events.</p><p> </p><p>What can I say, I really suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was too bright. The light that had just guided her before was now searing her eyes. Melia knew she had to escape, hurrying up the rocky path ahead of her. She's had this dream before: the greenish sky, monstrous spiders chasing her, a woman reaching out to her, bright lights, pain, a blast. Sometimes, in-between dreams, she would mumble incomprehensible words, her head rolling from side to side, little drops of cold sweat rolling down her forehead. Melia knew she had dreamt this before, even though she could not make out any more details. She sprinted, not looking back, trying to reach the extended hand of a strange woman – -- Pain. The light was too bright.

Solas tensed. The young woman the Inquisition’s forces had brought in a few days back had still not woken up. In fact, her state seemed to worsen – the mark on her hand shone brighter each passing hour, flashing, emitting little green sparks every once in a while. Meanwhile his efforts had been for naught – he couldn’t seal the Breach, not like this, not yet, maybe not ever. And his patient hadn’t awoken yet either. His brow furrowed. It might be time to leave. The seeker – Cassandra – looked ever so threateningly at him as she had when he had first offered to help. Confused, angry, frustrated – Solas felt her mirror his emotions, yet while her emotions were triggered by shock of another one’s actions, his own emotions were solely his own doing. “One more attempt”, he thought to himself. “One more.”

Melia felt reality pull on her, dragging her into the here and now. She tried to open her eyes, push out of this state of darkness and ever-repeating dreams, yet her eyelids lay heavy. “She’s waking up” said a muffled voice from far away. Melia clung to the voice – she would not drift to sleep. Not this time. Not again. She opened her eyes, making out only shadows at first. Black, grey, shadows, slowly forming into objects. A wall. A room? A door. Her left hand hurt. Melia tried to focus, and she made out chains, restraining her hands tightly. “Good. Welcome back” said the voice. To her? Who...? Melia wanted to see the speaker, she was desperate for another person, someone to make sense of all this. She gathered all her strength and turned her head to the side. When her eyes finally managed to focus she saw--- “No!” she screamed in a voice strange to herself, eyes suddenly wide open in fear. It can’t be! None of this makes any sense! What is happening? – a string of thoughts rushed through her, adrenaline pulsing in her veins. And then she felt the darkness clouding her mind again, her eyelids heavier than before. The faint was overwhelming her, but Melia didn’t care – she couldn’t tell what was real anymore. When her eyes finally closed again an image lay clear in her mind: the great black wolf starring at her, speaking to her…

"Get the seeker." Solas gestured to the guard, his eyes fixed on the young elf who had just woken up - only to faint moments later. "But... she's not awake yet" said the guard, looking suspiciously back and forth from the older, bald elf to the younger, female one. "Fine." Solas stood up abruptly and took a deep breath. He turned around to face the guard, a young man who had probably never seen magic this close before in his life. There was no need to bother explaining that - now that the patient had returned to this world - any sleep she would fall into was one she could easily be awakened from. "I will tell her myself." The guard let him exit the cell and frowned, feeling as if he had just been told off by his parents. Solas took long, determined steps to seek out Cassandra, yet couldn't help smiling. He surely knew his effect on the young spirits of this world. He entered Cassandra's room with a nod to the guards after a short walk. The last days had left traces of exhaustion and worry on her face. The human woman looked worried when she turned around, but a small flash of hope flickered in her eyes. "Any news?" she asked, crossing her arms as if to save herself from disappointment. "In fact, yes" Solas replied, "I am fairly certain your prisoner has returned to us." 

Cassandra left quickly to alert Leliana, the Left Hand of the Divine, to the news. Solas knew that they would undoubtedly rush to question the prisoner now. Too many questions remained unanswered, too many lives had been taken without explanation. He found himself wondering how they all got there, too. The mark on the young woman's hand was something he had never expected to find. The people who had brought her in said she walked out of the Fade... yet he knew he was invested in this by far more than his curiosity for the Fade. A young elf walking out of the Fade, surviving a blast that had killed countless others, bearing a mark full with power he only recognized all too well...  
"Ser. If you have time... there is another rift we need you at. Lady Cassandra asks to meet you there."  
The young carrier pulled him out of his thoughts.  
Solas saw him timidly holding his staff. With two short steps he crossed the room, took his staff from the messenger and nodded.  
"I will come at once."


	2. Chapter 2

"You will see. Come."  
The tall, determined woman with the short black hair led her along the path. Melia had just learned that her name was Cassandra, that she was the Right Hand of the Divine, and that she thought her guilty of the blast at the Conclave that killed Divine Justinia - and countless others. Now Cassandra expected her to use her "mark" on a Fade rift - what was that even supposed to be? - and all that Melia could do was to tag along, hoping this whole mess would somehow magically solve itself. Or maybe not magically. Apparently some sort of magic was what got all of them here in the first place.

Melia still felt out of place. Her left hand was throbbing, that weird green mark pulsating. There was a huge hole in the sky - the "Breach"-, she couldn't remember much of what had happened before she apparently walked out of the Fade, but everyone seemed to think she was the one who was responsible for all this. She had felt the disgust and hatred of the villagers and survivors as she had walked out of the Gates with Cassandra.   
They all think I did it, she thought, and I can't remember what happened. No one's gonna believe that an elf with no memory is innocent...

Sounds of fighting interrupted her thoughts. As she turned around a corner following Cassandra's footsteps, she saw a small group fighting what appeared to be demons coming out of a rift. Beams of green energy bolted out of the earth, different demons were on the loose and only a few people were fighting them as best as they could.   
"There they are. We must help them!" Cassandra cried out and threw herself into battle.  
The seeker's whole posture changed, it was as if she grew several inches, drawing the attention of the rampaging demons towards her and her shield. Melia tightened her grip around the staff she had found just moments ago. She ignored the mark on her hand that was sending bright green sparks flying, now that she had gotten closer to the Fade rift, and focused her will on a lightning spell. As the lightning struck several enemies at once, she saw a dwarf shooting bolts from a crossbow, hitting two demons with the same bolt. From the corner of her eye she saw another mage, an elf, casting barriers and protection wards on Inquisition allies. She felt the aura of magical energy around her as she drew strength from her mind to cast another blow to the remaining demons.   
"Quickly! Before more come through!" a strangely familiar voice commanded.   
Melia turned to face the rift, the elven mage already waiting for her. She looked at her hand, confused, than at the rift - what was she supposed to do? - but the elf took her hand before she could voice any confusion and reached out for the rift.

 

The prisoner turned out to be a skilled mage. Solas observed the battle, casting protection and attack spells as he saw fit, and paid special attention to the gracious figure of the young woman he had tried to pull out of her dreams mere hours ago. It was remarkable how focused she was, casting her spells while the mark on her hand nearly burst with energy. When the last demon was killed, the focus faded from her face and she looked questioningly at the rift.   
"Quickly! Before more come through!" There was no time for explanations, not now. It would show now whether he was right or not, either he could seal the rift using her mark, or... Solas didn't allow himself the contemplation, so he took her hand and reached for the rift, as if he was to seal it himself. A burst of energy emitted from her mark towards the Fade rift, steadily closing it. She was now focussing on closing the rift herself, he could feel it. There was no need to hang onto her arm, yet he couldn't let go - not until it was sealed, not until it was done.  
A last burst of energy closed the rift for good and Solas let go of her hand.   
"What did you do?!" It was more like a gasp than an accusation, her eyes wide in surprise and... curiosity.   
"I did nothing. The credit is yours" Solas replied, gesturing to her mark and suppressing a smile.  
"So this _is_ good for something after all" the woman replied, grasping the process quicker than he expected. She stood confident now, meeting his gaze with determined eyes. She looked older, not as young and fragile as she had just this morning while she was asleep. Seeker Cassandra walked up to them, the other prisoner, a dwarf, tagging along.   
"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand" Solas explained, "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts opened in the Breach's wake - and it seems I was correct."  
He glanced over to Cassandra. They had fought over this many times during the last days, the patience of the seeker wearing thin while his desperation grew with every failed attempt at closing the Breach. Still, this wasn't the time to be proud, it was only a small success in a long row of failures. The Breach was still open, after all.  
As if reading his thoughts, Cassandra interrupted him. "Meaning it could also seal the Breach itself."  
"Possibly", he replied, and then turned back to face the woman who now looked up to the sky, challenging. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."


	3. Chapter 3

_A cool breeze made her shudder. The night was clear. A starless sky framed the clearing in black and blue colors, thick clouds of fog crouching in from the woods nearby, the grassy spot illuminated softly by fading moonlight. Melia slid further behind the big oak, its trunk more than twice her size. Her breath came steady, small and silent controlled breaths of fresh winter air. The stag she had been tracking stood in the shadows of the small mountain that rose at the other side of the clearing. Slowly, as if testing her patience, it took small steps into the dimly lit opening, its nostrils flared as it smelled the dew-soaked grass. Melia remained still, ignoring her stiff limps. She needed the stag to come further into the clearing if she wanted to land the first shot. The stag gently lifted its head, inhaling deeply and then taking a few steps forward. Its antlers caught a few strokes of moonlight while Melia carefully repositioned herself behind the oak, lifted the bow and aimed. She took a deep breath, ready to fire the arrow that should struck the stag in the head and secure a few meals for her clan. Another breeze of night air blew a loose streak of hair into her face. As Melia slowly shook her head to clear her sight while trying to hold her body still, the stag suddenly raised its head, alarmed._ No no no, _she thought,_ not now, stay _. It had to be now or never._  
 _The arrow flew the straight line Melia had intended for it, but instead of the stag's head it hit - nothing. A lean shadow leapt from the mountain passage, catching the stag by the neck before her arrow could struck. Surprised, Melia jumped to her feet, ready to fire another shot - but as she focused on the clearing she saw that the stag was already lost. In the dim moonlight, the stag's neck still between silver fangs, sat a large black wolf, his eyes piercing her._ Creators _, she thought, and let her bow sink down. As if in silent understanding, the wolf dragged the stag into the shadows of the mountain, its silhouette fading until it merged with the night. Melia stood there, looking onto the clearing, alone._

Soft. Everything was so soft.   
It took her a moment to realize she was not in the northern woods, hunting for her clan, but in a small house. Melia lay in a bed with soft cotton sheets, a small fireplace to her left, flames flickering softly. Soft.   
It took her a moment to recollect herself. The pride demon. The rift. The Breach. _The mark_. She looked down on her hand in wonder. The mark was clearly visible but it wasn't throbbing anymore. Her left hand felt like her hand again, not like a tool somebody else had forced to replace her hand. Melia sat up and looked out of the window by her bed. The Breach was still there, but it was calmer now, the first Fade rift properly sealed.   
 _Thank the Creators_ , she thought. Maybe this was all going to work out and she might be back with her clan soon. She got up, gathered her armor that someone had left neatly folded - and cleaned! - near the fireplace, and changed. She was putting on her boots when a young elven girl entered. She dropped the soup she was carrying when she spotted Melia, and promptly fell to her knees, begging her for a forgiveness where there was nothing to forgive. Melia gathered, from the short conversation they had, that Cassandra wanted to see her as soon as she was awake and that she was in a town called Haven. Well, she would go see the seeker, no doubt, but for now she needed some time alone, preferably without any more awkward encounters that led to spilled soups and broken pots.

Everything was covered in a feet thick blanket of white snow. It made her surroundings look peaceful and quite, even though the small town was buzzing with soldiers, survivors and Chantry personnel. Melia pulled on her hood, trying to hide her face as good as she could. Her vallaslin made her stand out, even though the lines had faded in time and were only a darkblue shimmer on her skin. Every one was talking about her, it seemed, and she instinctively chose a path in which she would encounter as few people as possible. Sliding out of the city gates without any one noticing, she saw a path to her right leading up to a small forest.   
_Yes_ , she thought. _Solitude_.  
With everything that happened in the past days, all she wanted to do was to wander alone for a little while, trying to make sense of all this. One of the townspeople had called her "Herald of Andraste" before she could duck behind a corner and turn the other way, and it made her heart heavy with responsibility. They seemed to think she was some sort of heroine, a savior, when all she had done was gesture her mark towards some rifts. Creators, the first time she didn't even do it herself, that bald elf had taken the lead in this one, she thought... Her mind trailed off to the moment that stranger had taken her hand and the look on his face after she sealed the big rift at the Temple. Mustering her. Melia considered herself independent and self-reliant, yet in that moment she had longed for approval from the strange man as she hadn't longed for anything in... ever?  
 _Solas is his name_ , she remembered, _Pride_.  Her stomach gave a little twist, and then a loud rumbling sound.   
_Should have waited for another soup_ , she chuckled and made her way back to Haven.


	4. Chapter 4

_Truly, what irony that a Dalish elf was now the one being called the_ Herald of Andraste _. A mage, no less._    
Solas stood by the campfire and watched the apothecary Adan argue with a messenger about herb prices. The sturdy man had finally returned to his duties as alchemist, and although he said he preferred to make grenades he clearly seemed to enjoy even the bickering and negotiating that came with his newfound position as local healer. He and Solas had exchanged a few words in the past days, Adan telling him of his progress with the former prisoner, Melia, and Solas offering advice on a few rarer herbs and dealing with her mark. After she had awoken earlier this day, Adan happily returned to his potions and tonics and - grenades.  
"...Solas?" her voice came politely but firm. "Do you have a moment?"  
"Ah. The Chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero to save us all." He gestured towards two wooden banks placed around the campfire. "Please."  
He could tell from the look on her face that she wasn't particularly fond of her new name.   
"Am I riding in on a shining steed? Because I always wanted a pony all for myself" she winked and sat down at the fire. Solas chuckled. Here was something new. Next to Cassandra, who had just re-instated the Inquisition, Cullen, who was focused and... serious, and Leliana, whose faith only seemed to grow stronger the longer the Divine was dead, the Herald joking about it all was an unexpected variety.   
"I would have suggested a Griffon. But sadly, they're extinct." He smiled. "Joke as you will. Posturing is necessary." He sat down on the second bench, looking at her intently.   
"This is all so weird. I just..." The young woman starred into the flames and fell silent. Her hair was in a messy braid, streaks of auburn curls hanging loose on both sides of her face. She absently bit on her lip and Solas wondered if she was the kind who was used to decide on her own, taking action as she saw fit and now thrown in the middle of a religious war. He felt compelled to offer some advice. If he was to tell her about his experiences, however... He decided to share some stories with her, after all, he had wanted to talk to her for a while now.

 

"I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations." The man who had helped save her apparently thought she needed distraction. And he was right, she really did.  
Melia looked up, slightly embarrassed. This day had been too much - everyone called her the "Herald of Andraste" and she was now part of a reinstated Inquisition. But she hadn't come here to complain or seek advice, and now her short outburst made Solas feel obligated to tell her stories of wars and memories, famous and forgotten over time.   
"...I'm just curious what kind of hero you'll be" he finished a chain of thought, an eyebrow ever so slightly raised.   
"You sleep in old ruins and battlefields to walk the Fade there?" she exclaimed, trying to wrap her head around it and ignoring his gentle encouragement to talk about her being a Herald or Chosen or... An apostate mage, neither Dalish nor city elf, venturing through Thedas all by himself, only to dream? As he explained to her how he laid out wards and food for giant spiders, she felt strangely fascinated and wondered why her clan had never approached such a task. All the memories that could be found by simply dreaming in places tied to history... His voice was calm, soothing, emotions buried so subtly she wasn't always sure she got the message right. Still, listening to him talk was fascinating, drawing her attention away from her situation in Haven towards stories of old memories and places.   
Melia realized she kept starring at him. There was so much she wanted to know, but he was hardly a book she could just open and read through. His eyes met hers, piercing and clear. He had stopped talking now, the mellow sound of his voice still echoing in her ears, and for a brief moment she felt that he was not only looking at her, but through her, seeing her heart and soul lie bare. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable and open, Melia awkwardly stood up.   
"Thank you, Solas" she said, "all of this is extraordinary. Going so deep into the Fade, finding forgotten memories..." she stopped herself trail off again.  
Solas stood up in response, eyeing her appreciatively. "Thank you. It is not a common field of study. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."  
"I also wanted to thank you for helping me with the mark. You helped a lot." She rubbed her left hand, the mark still fresh in her skin.  
"It was nothing." His voice was sincere.  
"It was a lot" Melia insisted and tried a smile, feeling very young all of a sudden. _He must think me a fool_ , she thought, _hanging on his lips like a child listening to a storyteller._  
They both fell silent again, stretching the moments until goodbye. Then her stomach gave a loud and distinctive growl.  
"I.. hadn't had... dinner..." she stuttered, nodding towards the tavern, feeling all sorts of childish and stupid. _Creators, it's like this is the first time ever that I'm talking to a man._  
"Enjoy your dinner then" he replied, his lips curling into the faintest smile, eyes looking playful. Melia nodded and turned to leave. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked down the path to the tavern. Taking slow steps, she tried very hard not to run.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm sorry it took me so long to continue, the holidays were more busy than expected. But! Here we go, back to a more regular schedule now hopefully. 
> 
> If you have anything you'd like to read, let me know! Feel free to comment away, it helps :)

The roasted ram was the best thing she ever had. Or so it felt. After the eventful last days, sitting down and actually taking time to have dinner felt like an immense privilege. A flash of guilt shot through her - her clan had to do without her now. Keeper Deshanna had sent her to observe the Conclave, come back and report, and now Melia had been gone much longer than expected. Even though she was the First to her Keeper, she had picked up hunting as a young child, helping with snares first and taking up the bow after she had learned how to control her magic. _Now they're one hunter down. And I'm enjoying meals without lifting a finger._

"Something wrong, Growls?"  
Oh she should never have told Varric about how her growling stomach ended her conversation with Solas when she stumbled into him in the tavern. He had nicknamed her Growls pretty much immediately and enjoyed her sour smile every time he said it.  
Melia sighed. "I'm worried about my clan. With winter approaching and the war the situation is already dire as it is. Now they lack a hunter."  
The dwarf gave her a compassionate look, but his eyes looked curiously at her.   
"Wait, so Dalish mages hunt? I thought that's what your hunters are for?"  
"Well, our clan is rather small and I always liked the quiet pursuit of the hunt." This answer seemed to satisfy and disappoint him all at once.   
"Too bad. Here I thought you'd be running around shooting fireballs through the woods." He grinned, adding: "Oh I should use that _somewhere_."

Melia liked the weird dwarf. He was nearly as quick with his remarks as he was with his crossbow, and his garments were always ripped, chest laid bare and chest hair flowing in the wind. _I wonder if anyone ever asked him about what's up with_ that, she thought. Still, he was kind and entertaining, and she was grateful for his companionship. Sitting alone in the tavern, with everyone starring at the _Herald_ , would have been too much for her right now. Taking another bite in agreeable silence, Melia thought about all the other people she had met these last hours. Cassandra seemed a bit stiff but loyal, and loyalty was a trait Melia valued highly. They'd get along. The other advisors made her a bit nervous at first but she had warmed up to them as well. Cullen, a soldier with a heart far wiser than she had expected from a templar, was friendly and respected by his troups. _I should adjust my prejudices against templars_. Leliana, ever so mysterious and sharp, a deadly shadow of a woman long gone. And of course Josephine, kind and shiny Josephine. Everything seemed to be easier with Josephine, she solved even the most complicated situations with grace. 

Varric looked at her intently.  
"Okay, I gotta ask."  
Obviously he had held back on it for quite some time now.  
Melia put her empty plate on her dinner partner's and pushed them to the side of the table.  
"Ask what?"   
Varric leaned closer, eyes tweaking conspiratorially, and whispered: "Do you think you're really the... Herald of Andraste?"  
Oh. This again.  
"I... don't know. No. I-- I'm not really good with Andrastian teachings so who knows. But..." Her sentence ended in a frustrated groan. She had no idea how to answer all these questions. Melia didn't consider herself a very faithful person, but the last days really seemed to test her disbelief. Still, the Chantry with their Andraste and Maker were no more than human legends to her, quite similar to the Elven pantheon was to humans - or dwarfs. She tried to explain this to Varric, and he finally nodded.   
"Hmm yeah, I think I get it. Well, Maker's balls if I know." He took a long sip from his ale, a homemade brew from a local farmer - or so they had been told.  
"Hey, I hope I didn't hit a nerve there" he added after a short pause. "I'm known to do that sometimes."  
Melia shook her head. "You're not the first one to ask that. And I have a slight feeling you won't be the last."  
In fact, the only one who had only commented on rather than quizzed her about her new title had been Solas. And the way he had vocalized it - _a blessed hero_ \- had caught her off guard. Had it been a sarcastic twist or a factual statement?  
 _Ugh that stupid guy._  
"Oh? _Now_ I'm curious." Shit. Had she said that out loud? By the look of Varric's raised eyebrows and his dirty smirk, she sure had.  
"Chancellor Roderick. It was just a thought. I was... thinking about the whole Herald thing" she lied and tried to keep an innocent face.  
"Sure..." Varric smiled knowingly but decided to let it go. Instead, he slammed his empty cup on the table. "Let's get another one while we're still young."  
And after all, drinking with a new friend sounded like the best thing to do anyway.

 


	6. Chapter 6

It scared her to admit, but she actually _liked_ this. A few weeks had passed since she had woken up in Haven as a prisoner to the Inquisition, the organization she now was a proud agent of. They did good work. They had recruited good people. They had helped the refugees in the Hinterlands and stopped both Templars and Apostate Mages to use the area as a war place. Melia smiled as she got off the chestnut colored horse. She hadn't believed it possible, but she enjoyed this. 

"Let's rest for the night" she said to her companions and handed her reins to the Inquisition agent that had come over to greet them.   
"Herald!" he exclaimed and made a small bow. Melia laughed. "Addison, must I ask you again to not do that?" she said mildly.   
"I... of course Herald. As you wish." The young man blushed and took their horses to a grassy spot nearby.   
"Ohhhh Herald! As you wish Herald! Please, Herald! Let me take your horse, Herald! You can ride me instead, Herald!" Sera exclaimed as she approached the campfire and made kissing noises. "Mmmhhhmm oh Herald!" She held her hands in front of her as if hugging someone. "Ohhhh yesss!" Melia looked at her, confused but slightly amused. As she watched Sera act out her little play she saw Blackwall, the lone warden, holding back laughter, and Solas, watching Sera motionless. What strange people they all were. She cared for them all.

"Welcome back" said a familiar voice, and Melia turned around to find Scout Harding smiling at her. "To be honest, it was quite boring with you being gone" the dwarf added.   
"Oh, I take a night of boring" Melia sighed as she sat down by the fire, "can you imagine we encountered little Dragons today?"  
"Did you say... dragons?!" The Iron Bull's deep voice echoed Harding's face. Well it was kind of unbelievable. Dragonlings. Caves with hidden treasures and missing wardens. Stuff from tales and legends, but nothing that would happen in real life - only that it did happen. On a day to day basis.  
"Young ones, merely a few years old." Solas stood a few feet away, trying to calm the Bull's excitement.   
"Well fuck me" Bull said and sat down. Sera made a disgusted noise. "Okay, not you" he added and they both laughed.  
They all gathered at the fire, eating and sharing stories. Harding told them how she had tried hunting with Varric out of boredom but promptly stopped after they kept shooting the same game again and again. Laughter filled the air.

  
Melia sat idly by and sipped on a hot drink someone had handed her. Honey mead, if she was not mistaken. Pretty good one, too. The campfire was warm and soothing, a soft heat most welcome after a day's ride through muddy mountain passes and cold sea air. The banter of her party was a comforting background noise to her own thoughts. In these few weeks they had all learned that the Herald's silence was no sign for concern but rather a quiet contemplation of the events they encountered. She would jump into conversations randomly and crack jokes often enough, but, at other times, she just enjoyed sitting with them, watching them joke and laugh. It was without doubt something she carried over from her clan, when ever so often Melia had just enjoyed her friends' company in silence. Sitting alone on one of the trunks placed around the fire, she stretched her legs in front of her, the soles of her feet comfortably close to the fire.  
"May I?" said a soft voice from behind her, and as she looked up she found Solas standing next to her, gesturing to the place to her left.  
"Of course." She started to shift her body to the edge of the trunk, offering more space to the other mage. But he shook his head.   
"Don't. On my account, at least."  
He sat down next to her. They both fit on the trunk quite well, but Melia was surprised at how tall he was. Sure, he was taller than her, but now, up so close, she found herself surprised at how keen his body was. The constant fighting and running around had been a good training for all of them, but Solas seemed to have gained some muscle weight in particular. His white garment stretched tightly on his upper arms, showing off traces of muscles. Or had he been that way from the start? Melia couldn't say, she had avoided him after her embarrassing introduction during the first days in Haven. She allowed herself one last glimpse at his upper body, side-eyeing him carefully. Solas made her uneasy, and she enjoyed that tingling sensation he gave her far more than she should. Several times she had caught herself marveling at him when he was riding ahead of her or leading the way. Melia knew exactly why she kept her distance. Maybe she should turn down on the mead for tonight, too...  
"I was wondering if you had made up your mind yet on who you will talk to about sealing the Breach." The voice pulled her out of her day-dreaming.   
"Uhm- I... --what?"

 

Her curls framed her face as she starred at him. Ah. What a stupid question. She had tried to take a break and he just couldn't help himself.   
"Forgive me. I know better than to disturb your well-deserved rest."   
"It's okay. I was just... lost in thoughts." He wasn't sure but he thought he saw the faintest blush on her cheeks. This woman. Even after these last weeks spent together, she was still a mystery to him. She intrigued him. He had finally admitted it to himself, but refused to accept this intrigue as anything other than professional concern. She was, after all, the person bearing the mark on her hand, and best suited to close the Breach, should they accomplish this at all. Solas remained silent. He was torn between satisfying his curiosity and leaving her be. Bull's roaring laughter echoed through the camp.  
"I'm glad they're having a good time" she said, nodding to the others who were sitting a few good feet away.   
"Are you not?" Solas asked in earnest.   
"I am. This is nice. It reminds me of home." She seemed to relax, the features in her face softened and the tension in her shoulders dropped.  
Solas watched her as she took another sip of her mead. Home. A feeling long lost to him, yet the way she spoke of it resonated in some part of his soul he had left unattended for too long. He grimaced and looked away.  
"Are you... Do you have family?" she asked quietly. Undoubtedly she had picked up on his feelings. _I need to focus. More.  
_ "I have made many friends on my journeys. I consider them as close to me as family" he answered vaguely. There was no need for him to lie more than necessary. And technically, he spoke the truth. Why did it feel like he was betraying her?  
"And now you made new friends" she added. "Maybe one day you'll consider us as close."   
His stomach gave a small twist at her last words. The thought of her being close to him was-  _Oh yes, this is purely professional interest_ he snarled at himself in angry response. _Keep telling yourself_. With the last bit of restrain he hid the pain in his eyes and forced himself to smile.   
"I hope so."

As he lay in his tent that night he found it difficult to fall asleep. His mind wandered back to those moments at the campfire, to _her_. They had talked in the last weeks, like he had talked with the other members of the team. He knew she was afraid of heights, knew that she seemed to enjoy watching the waves of the sea, knew that she was as fierce in her fighting as she was passionate about their mission. He knew little details about her, unimportant things, _not enough_. At the same time it embarrassed him that he could recall her face as clear as if she was standing in front of him, could recall the sound of her laughter in his mind, and, maybe the worst of all, the touch of her skin on his when he had held her hand to soothe the tension of the mark. _I need to keep my distance. In all aspects._  He would offer advice on the matters at hand, but no more. Enough with the childish notion of solving this puzzle. She had the mark, he could help. _There mustn't be any more to know_. Sleep came late, but was a welcome resort from his own mind.

 

A few feet away Melia cursed at the stars. She could hear Varric snore in his tent, but she knew that wasn't the reason she couldn't sleep. Her mind conjured up images of Solas. She hadn't admitted it to herself so far, but it was pretty obvious to her now, in the middle of the night, alone in her tent, that she liked him. _Yet I know nothing about him_ she thought. Where was he from? Did his... friends include a spouse? Where did he want to go once this was all over? The last thought sent a sharp pain through her. He couldn't just leave. Could he? Melia rolled on her side and bit her lower lip. _I need to know more about him_. She would try to get closer to him in the following days. Satisfied with her intent, she finally managed to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FIC IS OUT OF HIATUS!!! YAY!
> 
> I apologize for keeping you waiting, life happened and I didn't really take time to update this fic. I'll try to do this more regularly now. As soon as I have a rhythm, I'll let you know.  
> Also, this fic was meant to be dark, so I'm gonna turn up the angst a bit soon. Sorry. I like writing dark things. Don't worry though, there will be fluff to counter this. Eventually. Heh.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

Yes, they had gained the mages. Everyone seemed happy about it - sealing the Breach was only a night away, a few hours until she was expected to close that thing in the sky with her bare hand. But at what price? Melia's nerves lay bare. Redcliffe had been... overwhelming, to say the least. Tevinter magisters, red lyrium, freaking _time-travel_? The future she had seen was dark. A green sky, a dead country, air filled with sounds of despair and death. She had fought her way through an overrun castle with Dorian and found her companions in cells, sick, dying. They had freed Leliana from her shackles, only to see her die not much later by the hands of demons. When Dorian and Melia returned, for everyone else, only a second had passed. For them, it felt as if they had lived through a day's worth of pain. 

She had offered the mages an alliance then. She hadn't really known what she was doing, half-frozen from shock still, but she did not regret that part now. Being an unwilling member of a structure without any power to change it had started the mages on their difficult path that ultimately led to rebellion, and making the mages unequal partners again had felt so very  _Alexius_ to her. Still, her advisors grumped quite a bit because she hadn't consulted with them first. It didn't matter now. What's done is done.

Melia turned around. The cotton blankets were soft, but everything felt too warm, too hot. Her nightgown was damp from sweat. She couldn't sleep. Every time she drifted off, memories of that dark future she saw came flooding back, drowning her in fear. _If I can't stop this, this is what our future will look like._ It was unbearable. Her friends dying or dead. Her clan most certainly murdered. The world a place full of terrors. And somehow it was up to her to prevent all this from ever happening? With a sigh she rose out of bed. There was no use to keep trying to sleep. Maybe a walk would help her clear her mind. 

After putting on the first things she could grab, Melia slid outside. The air was fresh and smelled of wet wood. It was dark, but she could see just fine, small fires burning here and there, her eyes being superior in dim conditions anyway. Dulled sounds came from the tavern: music and singing and stomping. The people were unmistakenly celebrating their first minor victory. _Or they all drown their fears in ale.  
_ The rogue moved silently, disappearing in the shadows whenever a guard or some townsfolk came too close for comfort. It only took her minutes until she crossed the frozen lake outside of the city. With a few swift steps, she climbed up the rocks and found herself surrounded by trees. A sigh escaped her mouth. For a brief moment, she felt invisible. _I could just disappear and no one would find me unless I wanted them too_ , she thought. _But that wouldn't really help anyone, would it?_ A bitter afterthought flashed through her mind. _Anyone except for me_. 

Something creaked behind her. Startled, Melia turned around in a fighting stance. She hadn't taken her bow with her, or any weapon really. _Not the smartest move_. She quickly scanned her surroundings, but the area was quiet. It had started to snow, somehow she hadn't even realized. But then she heard another sound, and when she turned her head, her mouth dropped open. _Curse the Dread Wolf_. A wolf had snuck up on her and watched her curiously. Its eyes were the color of dark honey, mellow but somehow bright. When it moved towards her, it made no sound, the fur melting into the dimly lit surroundings. It was impossible to detect the wolf - unless it wanted to be seen. Melia dropped her shoulders and relaxed a bit. When she was fairly sure it wasn't going to attack her, she started to move again. The wolf stayed on her heels, silently watching, waiting. After a while she couldn't take it anymore.   
"Why are you following me?" she finally said, feeling incredibly stupid to talk to an animal. The wolf only cocked its head to the side and sat. She could hear it breathe, small, consistent breaths.   
"Fine." Melia started walking again. "Whatever."

As she walked deeper into the woods, followed by that weird black wolf, she tried to figure out what exactly she was so afraid of. Redcliffe was frightening, and the responsibility to prevent it from ever happening wore down on her, but that wasn't it. She missed her clan a lot, and her independence, and human customs were exhausting, but that wasn't the point either. _Is anyone there?_ A memory she had pushed into a far corner of her mind came rushing back, or a vision more likely, painful all the same. Melia winced and stopped. His eyes had been red... his body weak. Dying. _I am dying, but it matters not_. She let out a sharp breath and leaned against a tree, trying to support her growing increasingly weak legs. _You have as much time as I have arrows_ , and then his body hit the floor, shattered by some unholy creature. He had trusted her to fix this with his life...   
Her legs gave in and she sunk down into the snow. Her breathing was uncontrolled and fast, her heart racing in her chest. _He died. He can't die. Not him_. Her eyes watered and a small sob fled her throat. As she felt the panic flood her mind with fear, a soft wet nose nudged her hand. The wolf had sat down beside her. It quietly nudged her hand again, until Melia started petting its head. The fur was damp but soft, the animal's body emitting enough warmth to melt all snow off of it. It felt oddly calming and soothing, stroking the wolf's head, and the elf felt the panic subside.   
"Do you think I'm stupid, falling for someone who doesn't even care that I exist?" she eventually asked the wolf, to no avail. It was true. She had tried starting a conversation with Solas many times since they had talked at the campfire, but he had broken off all conversations quickly and politely. _So much for learning more about him_. And still, from everything she had seen in Recliffe, the prospect of him dying was what had hit her the hardest. It was useless denying, she liked him, a lot, and when she wasn't confused by his attitude or scared for his life, her stomach was in knots every time she thought about him. Maybe she should talk to him. At least ask him if she somehow had offended him... The wolf lifted its head, watching something in the distance.  
"Oh. You're right. It's getting late" she said and stood up. Her odd companion remained silent.  
"Will you at least bring a lady home?" Melia teased, and the wolf rose to its feet. "I guess that's a yes."

 


	8. Chapter 8

She was different. The way she had kept silent most of the way back from Redcliffe, staying close to Dorian for most of the ride. The forced smiles and dulled gestures. Solas was worried about her. Whatever had happened to her in that split second they were gone, whatever she had seen - it had changed her somehow. She seemed disturbed.

"Is something the matter, Chuckles?" asked Varric and pulled him back to reality. "You look... even more concerned than usual."  
Solas had to give it to him. The dwarf had truly remarkable observation skills. He should compliment him on it another time.  
"I am thinking about the events we face tomorrow" he answered instead, "sealing the Breach will be no small act, and sealing it safely will be of utmost priority."  
"Ah come on, have some faith in our Herald."  
"I do have faith in her. A great deal. I am simply worried not everyone puts as much trust in her skills as we do."  
"It'll be alright. Here. Let me get the next round." Varric stood up, but Solas shook his head.  
"Thank you Varric, but I must decline. I will take my leave to go over our preparations once more."  
"Okay Chuckles, but the next time we're drinking, _you're_ buying." And with that Varric was lost to the crowd, making his way to the bar to order another ale. Solas took his leave.

The night was chill but calm. Leaving the tavern was like entering another world, a quieter, softer version of it. Solas glanced over to his quarters, but decided to take a walk instead. Time-travel. Magisters inciting a war. A demon army. What Dorian had told him about their experiences in that other timeline was concerning. Worrisome. Lavellan had taken her leave early today, excusing herself in order to take a long night's sleep before the next day. But Solas knew there was something else. Her eyes, usually fearless and determined, had looked tired and mazed. Seeing her so... different, twinged his heart. _I can not give in to the temptation of thinking about her in that way. Not when so much is at stake_. The past days had left their toll on him. He had avoided longer conversations with her and steered all personal inquiries into safer territory, like talking about the quests ahead, the Fade or the Breach. 

Without him noticing, Solas had stepped into the woods outside of Haven. The night was clear, it was snowing lightly and the area around Haven was quiet. He found a solid and overall flat rock sitting on the edge of the small forest, covered in thin layers of snow. It would do. Sitting down, he quickly found a comfortable position, ready to slip into the Fade soon. Sleeping outside was something that had never bothered him before, in fact, he rather enjoyed the light breezes and open skies. Closing his eyes, he took deep, regulated breaths in and out; his body growing heavier and more relaxed with every breath.

"Solas?"  
For a brief moment he wasn't sure if he had conjured up her face in the Fade or if she was in fact standing in front of him. The dark wolf starring at him was telling though. He would never shape her in his dreams only to spoil the moment by adding a wolf. He stood up, stretching the rigid parts of his body. She had pulled him out of his half-sleep, drifting into the Fade was taking longer and longer every day. Memories of her face kept pulling him back.  
"Herald. Should you not be in your quarters, resting before the big attempt?" he said eventually.  
She chuckled softly. "Shouldn't you?"  
"Ah. Yes. I was, in fact, resting. As it seems, we share a preference for quiet solitude in the midst of battle preparations." He eyed the creature carefully that now sat at her feet. "I see you found company?"  
"Yes." She shrugged. "I don't really know what it wants from me, but it just showed up and led me-" he could swear that she hesitated for a second, "back to Haven."  
"Were you lost?" He furrowed his brow in concern. "You need not endanger yourself like this. You should know that you are our most valuable asset - and only hope, so to speak."  
Melia looked sad. "I know, believe me."  
"Forgive me. I did not mean to scold you."   
Solas paused briefly. The encounter was unexpected, and he had planned on studying the Fade this night. He should offer to accompany her on the last bit of the path back, but she seemed more content on walking alone.   
"Well-" she attempted to say something, but stopped when the wolf stood up and trotted away. The herald watched it fade into the shadows of the woods, then turned around. "Care to join me for the walk back?" she smiled.  
The matter was decided at last, it seemed. "It will be my pleasure."

 

 


End file.
